Clara pressed her lips together, silently grumbling to herself: So you're the real tycoon with that CEO aura.
Half an hour later, Floyd led Clara to the luxury revolving restaurant at the hotel's penthouse.
Glancing at the window-side table, Floyd chuckled. "Damn, he's early."
Clara's eyes widened. Wait—this wasn't a two-person dinner?
The crisp lines of his tailored suit caught her attention first. The middle-aged man by the window studied the menu with an air of refined elegance, his frameless glasses glinting under the chandeliers. His neatly combed hair and impeccable posture defied any sleazy uncle vibe—in fact, he carried himself better than most men half his age.
Clara subtly elbowed Floyd's side. "Is that your brother?"
Floyd burst out laughing. "Oh he'd be preening for weeks
